


Distractions

by wewereneverhomeless (hopewithfeathers)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-20
Updated: 2015-02-20
Packaged: 2018-03-13 22:04:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3397922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopewithfeathers/pseuds/wewereneverhomeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a post 10x14 fic.  Dean tries to hide his terror at the thought of harming his brother, and Sam needs to know what's wrong. This was supposed to be sad but it turned into sex whoops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for 10x14 obviously!

Sam waits until he thinks Dean will be asleep to poke his head into his big brother’s room. He can tell by the quiet that Dean’s still awake, though—there’s no little puh puh of Dean’s sleep-breaths and the air is too tense. Sam leans against the door jam, staring into the darkness where he knows Dean’s sprawled out on his stomach. 

“Dean,” he says gently. “Hey. Can I come in?” Dean gives this exhausted sigh from the bed, and Sam’s chest constricts in panic and worry and desperation for his brother to just finally be okay. If he’s feeling like this he can’t imagine what his brother is feeling without wanting to be sick. 

“Y-yeah,” Dean says. His voice is hoarse. Sam closes the door behind him and pads uncertainly to Dean’s bed on bare feet, because it’s been a while since they shared a bed and it’s a toss up right now on whether Dean wants company or wants him to stay the fuck away from him. Sam’s arms are still heavy with his brother’s weight, and he wants to take it again. 

Sam pauses before he slides into bed, waiting for Dean to protest, but Dean doesn’t say anything. As soon as Sam’s lying down Dean rolls to him with this little woof of breath and clings, his hands shaking and grabbing so hard at Sam’s shirt that Sam wouldn’t be surprised if it ripped off him. Sam’s eyes burn—he wishes Cain was alive so he could kill him again. 

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re alright. It’s okay, Dean. Easy.” Dean buries his face in Sam’s shoulder and gives this short, hysterical laugh. He presses so close—his cheek against Sam’s cheek, his heart pounding against Sam’s chest, his legs tangled with Sam’s—that all Sam can smell and feel and hear is Dean. He hasn’t been this close to his brother in a long time. He grabs back, gets his hands around Dean’s head and cradles it, brushing his thumbs through the short hair at the base of his neck. Dean makes this wounded sound, half a sob, and Sam is this close to losing it. “Dean? Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” It sounds like he’s begging. Dean shakes his head, smoothing his hand up and down Sam’s chest like he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands. He’s trembling. 

“I can’t—can we just. Just let me.” 

“Dean, you’re shaking, p-please.” Sam’s chest gets tight like his lungs are shrinking, until he’s gasping, panicked, right into Dean’s hair. Dean lifts his head so their noses bump. Sam can’t see his face clearly in the dark, but he knows his eyes are bloodshot (they were already red in the kitchen) and heavy because Dean hasn’t slept. 

“I’ll tell you, Sammy,” Dean whispers. And it’s his first full sentence since Sam came in, the first time he’s said Sam’s name, and Sam didn’t realize how badly he needed to hear it. “Just not right now.” 

Sam’s shaking too, now. He’s fucking scared because something’s broken Dean and he doesn’t know what so he can’t fix it. 

“Hey, whoa,” Dean says when he notices. He strokes one hand up Sam’s arm and buries the other in his hair, tugging gently. “Easy, tiger. I’m alright.” 

Sam laughs even though it’s a fucking lie, because he thinks back to all those years ago when Dean broke into his apartment and how different it would’ve been if Dean had never come for him, and then he thinks big brother in a way that’s embarrassing and he’d never say out loud and realizes that they’d always end up together, anyway. Somehow. 

“You scared me,” Sam says. You are scaring me. 

“I know,” Dean murmurs. He kisses Sam’s temple, and Sam’s whole body kind of wakes up, and he wraps both his arms all the way around Dean like he’s never going to let go. Dean sighs and wriggles closer. “Sorry, little brother.” 

Sam’s dizzy with how close Dean is. God, everything smells like him, so he frees one of his hands to cup Dean’s jaw in the dark, to find his lips. He kisses his brother, nervous and desperate, and Dean pants like he’s drowning and kisses him back. Sam throws a leg over Dean’s and rolls them so that Dean’s underneath him, still clutching at Sam’s hair and tugging on his shirt. Sam swallows Dean’s breaths (tries to swallow his brother) and licks between his lips, behind his teeth. 

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean huffs, because they both have to break for air embarrassingly quickly. 

“You should be sleeping,” Sam says against Dean’s jaw, which is a stupid ass thing to say. Sam can almost see Dean rolling his eyes, and he really needs to actually see his brother so he reaches over and turns on the bedside lamp. Dean moans when the light hits his eyes and jerks his hands up to cover them, but not before Sam sees how red they are. “Sorry,” Sam says, and means it. Sam can tell Dean’s been crying, and his stomach lurches like he’s gonna be sick. His cheeks are splotchy and still kind of wet, and the area around his eyes is raw. Dean rubs his eyes, squinting, and reaches a hand out for Sam. 

“Sammy,” he says, and Sam leans down to kiss him again. He knows this is what Dean needs right now. 

“I got you,” Sam says. “I got you.” They kiss and kiss, and God, Dean tastes so good and feels so good and Sam can’t stop touching him. Dean’s making these sweet little sounds that he usually holds back and practically melting into Sam’s every touch, but soon his whole body is heavy against the mattress and his lips are loose and slow against Sam’s. Sam grins into the kiss, knocking their teeth together. He pulls back to see Dean’s face, and Dean makes this displeased sound in his throat. His eyes are still closed. 

“Are you falling asleep?” Sam teases. Dean jerks a little, blinking slowly. His eyes are all hazy. 

“No,” Dean says like he’s offended, but his cheeks flush. The affection that rushes through Sam warms his entire body, makes him lean down and give Dean a small kiss on the side of his mouth, and then on his pink cheek. “’M not.” 

“Okay,” Sam laughs. Dean’s eyes are already drooping again, but he lifts his hips hopefully. 

“Please, Sam.” 

“Okay,” Sam says softly. He unbuttons his brother’s jeans, pulls them down, and Dean fumbles to help. He groans, nodding hard, breathing “yeah, Sammy, yeah,” and Sam feels that familiar ache between his legs, and fuck he missed this. 

Dean’s head thunks against the headboard as soon as Sam’s lips wrap around his dick. He moans and fingers Sam’s hair, tugging and tugging because Sam always lets him. Sam licks over the head and sucks hard, swallowing him down until Dean hits the back of his throat—he only gags a little and watches Dean’s eyes roll back. 

“God, Sammy, fucking—not gonna last long, kiddo.” 

Sam groans around Dean’s dick and humps the mattress a little, his dick throbbing. He’s always gotten off to all that kiddo and little brother and Sammy; Dean’s his big brother and Sam loves him so much and Sam loves this so much. Sam wants to say all of it but he just looks until Dean meets his eyes. 

“Sam, Sam, I—“ 

Dean tugs on his hair and comes hard in his mouth, and God, he didn’t last long at all and it’s the hottest fucking thing Sam’s ever seen. Sam swallows him down, licking the come that leaks over his lips, and pulls off to stroke his brother, staring because Dean is fucking beautiful when he comes. 

“God yeah, baby,” Sam breathes. “Yeah, c’mon.” 

Dean sighs hard when he comes down, his eyes bleary, his whole body limp. Sam smiles, can’t help it, and kisses Dean’s slack mouth. Dean fumbles for Sam’s pants, but he’s nearly asleep and Sam can do it, it’s okay. 

“S’okay,” Sam says. He gets his pants off, exhaling hard when he gets a hand on his dick. He watches Dean the whole time, buries his hand in Dean’s hair and tries not to pull too hard. Dean’s staring with heavy-lidded eyes, licking his lips over and over and mouthing Sam’s name and Jesus Christ and then Sam’s coming all over Dean’s legs and his own stomach. “Dean,” he says shakily. He collapses next to his brother, and stays so close that their legs are pressed together. Dean reaches over before Sam can get too far, tangling his fingers in Sam’s shirt again. 

“Hey, we need to talk,” Sam says, once he can think. He tilts his head to look at Dean. “Also clean up.” 

“Yeah, mhm,” Dean says. His eyes are closed and his head lists towards Sam’s. Sam knows he’s seconds from sleep.

“We will when you wake up,” Sam says. Dean nods again, smiles at Sam without opening his eyes. Sam trails his fingers over his big brother’s stomach and rubs it until Dean falls asleep, feeling the warm skin beneath his hand.


End file.
